It was only excluded from the editions of 1820, 1827, and 1832. In the edition of 1807 it was placed amongst a group of "Poems composed during a Tour, chiefly on foot." In 1815, in 1836, and afterwards, it was included in the group "referring to the Period of Childhood."

In Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal, the following reference to this poem occurs:

"Feb. 16, 1802.--Mr. Graham said he wished William had been with him the other day. He was riding in a post-chaise, and he heard a strange cry that he could not understand. The sound continued, and he called to the chaise-driver to stop. It was a little girl that was crying as if her heart would burst. She had got up behind the chaise, and her cloak had been caught by the wheel, and was jammed in, and it hung there. She was crying after it, poor thing. Mr. Graham took her into the chaise, and her cloak was released from the wheel, but the child's misery did not cease, for her cloak was torn to rags. It had been a miserable cloak before; but she had no other, and it was the greatest sorrow that could befall her. Her name was Alice Fell. She had no parents, and belonged to the next town. At the next town Mr. G. left money to buy her a new cloak."

"Friday (March 12).--In the evening after tea William wrote 'Alice Fell'."

"Sat.u.r.day Morning (13th March).--William finished 'Alice Fell'...."

Ed.

The post-boy drove with fierce career, For threatening clouds the moon had drowned; When, as we hurried on, my ear Was smitten with a startling sound. [1]

As if the wind blew many ways, 5 I heard the sound,--and more and more; It seemed to follow with the chaise, And still I heard it as before.

At length I to the boy called out; He stopped his horses at the word, 10 But neither cry, nor voice, nor shout, Nor aught else like it, could be heard.

The boy then smacked his whip, and fast The horses scampered through the rain; But, hearing soon upon the blast 15 The cry, I bade him halt again. [2]

Forthwith alighting on the ground, "Whence comes," said I, "this piteous moan?" [3]

And there a little Girl I found, Sitting behind the chaise, alone. 20

"My cloak!" no other word she spake, But loud and bitterly she wept, As if her innocent heart would break; [4]

And down from off her seat [5] she leapt.

"What ails you, child?"--she sobbed "Look here!" 25 I saw it in the wheel entangled, A weather-beaten rag as e'er From any garden scare-crow dangled.

There, twisted between nave and spoke, It hung, nor could at once be freed; 30 But our joint pains unloosed the cloak, [6]

A miserable rag indeed! [7]

"And whither are you going, child, To-night along these lonesome ways?"

"To Durham," answered she, half wild--35 "Then come with me into the chaise."

Insensible to all relief Sat the poor girl, and forth did send Sob after sob, as if her grief [8]

Could never, never have an end. 40

"My child, in Durham do you dwell?"

She checked herself in her distress, And said, "My name is Alice Fell; I'm fatherless and motherless.

"And I to Durham, Sir, belong." 45 Again, [9] as if the thought would choke Her very heart, her grief grew strong; And all was for her tattered cloak!

The chaise drove on; our journey's end Was nigh; and, sitting by my side, 50 As if she had lost [10] her only friend She wept, nor would be pacified.

Up to the tavern-door we post; Of Alice and her grief I told; And I gave money to the host, 55 To buy a new cloak for the old.

"And let it be of duffil grey, As warm a cloak as man can sell!"

Proud creature was she the next day, The little orphan, Alice Fell! 60

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1:

1845.

When suddenly I seem'd to hear A moan, a lamentable sound. 1807.]

[Variant 2:

1845.

And soon I heard upon the blast The voice, and bade .... 1807.]

[Variant 3:

1845.

Said I, alighting on the ground, "What can it be, this piteous moan?" 1807.

Forthwith alighted on the ground To learn what voice the piteous moan Had made, a little girl I found, C.]

[Variant 4:

1836.

"My Cloak!" the word was last and first, And loud and bitterly she wept, As if her very heart would burst; 1807.

"My cloak, my cloak" she cried, and spake No other word, but loudly wept, C.]

[Variant 5:

1815.

... off the Chaise ... 1807.]

[Variant 6: